The Circle is Breaking
by Karigan Rohanna
Summary: Everything looks different when you are dying. So Boromir is learning. Part Three of the Fic circlet "Ties that Bind", sequel to "Bittersweet Tears" and "A Different Kind of Dream"


The Circle is Breaking   
Author: Karigan Rohanna (ladyofgondor@diaryland.com)   
Feedback: Desired greatly, muchly appreciated.   
Written: July 3rd, 2003   
Summary: Everything looks different when you are dying. So Boromir is learning.   
Warnings: PG-13; death, pain, and miserable angst from a dying man.   
A/N: Part One of the Fic Circlet "Ties that Bind". Read also "Bittersweet Tears" and "A Different Kind of Dream". For my Faramir, with much aNgSt from your Boromir. 

The aching in my chest intensifies as I struggle to breathe. Merry, Pippin, my mind cries, where have they taken the hobbits? My weakness hurts me. Where are they? Do they yet live? Where is Aragorn, and Legolas, and Gimli? Should they not follow Merry and Pippin, and save them? I long to leap up from this darkness and follow them, to dispatch the archers who have brought me such pain, and to rescue my friends.   
Pippin looked so like Faramir when he cried my name. Like Faramir as a child-- but perhaps the pain was blurring my sight, as it has stolen it now. I want to move, but cannot. I want to save them, but I cannot. I can do nothing, but struggle to breath, and wish it were otherwise.   
Faramir. Where is my brother? The aching in my chest continues. Is he home, in Minas Tirith? Has he heard the horn of Gondor ring out, one last time? My fingers search for it, and find it cloven at my side, split in two. Generations of Stewards have raised this horn to rally their troops-- but no more.   
Tears of pain well against my eyes. My fingers burn and sting, and I am afraid I am getting blood on another sacred tie to home. I do not wish to bloody what I have left of Gondor, what is left of home to me, so far away. Home. So far away... so very, very far away...   
I miss my brother. I wish he was here. It would distress him to see me so, but I wish it nonetheless. The sound of his voice would comfort me, as the sound of my voice has comforted him through many distresses and pains. I can hear him, in the ear of my mind, telling me all will be well, and I have fought bravely. The words do not help the way they should.   
But I am dying, I want to cry to the sound of him in my mind's ear, but my lips do not move, so I shout with my mind's lips instead. I am dying, Faramir, and I did not keep my promise to you!   
If Faramir has something to say, I cannot hear it, for the pain in my chest redoubles, and my fingers stretch painfully to find something to grasp to, to hold onto as the pain intensifies. My fingers grip the hilt of my sword. Though it is slick with blood, I can feel the solid steel beneath my hands, and take some comfort, small though it is.   
I'm not going home.   
I'll never see Faramir's face again, or see the White Tower, or the banners flying in the breeze, or hear the silver trumpets call out welcome or farewell. I'll never see a child run down the streets again, busy in the games of childhood, never knowing what I fight to keep away from their innocence. I'll never hear the music of the street musicians again, singing of the glory and the honor that is battle, and the beauty that is Gondor.   
I'm not going home.   
Faramir, forgive me, I beg you. Forgive me for breaking my promise to you. I meant to keep it-- I meant it for all the world. I had thought, that if I took Isildur's Bane, if I merely borrowed Frodo's ring, I might go home after all, and once there, I would return his ring to him. I thought if I only had a little aid, if something was not fighting against me, as Gandalf had, as Aragorn does...   
But I was wrong. I did not listen to you, when you said Isildur's Bane was called such for good reason, and now I see what I did not see before.   
I am not going home.   
I will not see your face again.   
I am sorry.   
I was convinced you were in danger. I am convinced. I do not know by what means you will hear what I have to say, but I must tell you. You are in danger. I do not know by what means, but I see it clearly. I meant to be home, to protect you from it, but I cannot go. Galadriel, in telling me your fate, has sealed mine to that of her prediction.   
Forgive me, I cannot be there, not in flesh.   
I cannot take the danger from you. I cannot stop the siege. I do not know when, I do not know how, but Faramir, you must listen to me, you must stay safe! You must not be as I was, disregarding the warnings about me, ignoring the signs I did not understand-- you must be careful.   
I am sorry. This is not what you wanted, this is not what I wanted. I did not mean to die untimely, and I know you never meant for me to die chasing down your dream. I did not see this end. We spoke lightly of death with glory, death in battle, death to go down in history books, but I did not mean it to be this end.   
I wanted to go home.   
You must be there for me.   
You must love the White City for me, and see the Tower of Ecthelion, and watch the banners in the breeze, and hear the trumpets call. You must listen to the street musicians, and cherish the young children, and live, for I cannot. Not anymore. My hours there seem so small now, and there is much I would give to have returned.   
You must love it for me, because I have hardly breath to live, and it fades fast.   
Forgive me. I cannot forgive myself, for leaving you alone, for not heeding your advice, for not having been wiser. You were right, little brother, you were right all the long, when you said to me, 'Isildur's Bane shall be your bane' and I did not heed you. When you said 'This quest shall wear you thin, until you hardly know yourself' I did not heed you. I thought only, if that it is what it would do to me, then what would it do to you? I wished to save you pain, and have brought upon us both pain unimaginable.   
For what is a brother if he does not protect the younger son of his father? And what is a man if he will not give all to protect that which is dear to him? No brother at all, and no man. I wished to be both brother and friend you deserved to have, and have end up being neither.   
And I am sorry.   
If you had words to say, this would be the time, for I can scarcely cling to life. The pain grows heavy once more, and I do not know how long I may last. I had hoped to charge Aragorn with the task of aiding you, of easing the burden that now is yours, which you are not ready for, because I did not prepare you. That is my fault-- I thought I would return, but I failed to see all ends.   
And now I see where blindness has brought me. There is no turning back, and there is no healing me. There is only healing you, brother, and changing your fate, that you do not suffer as I have, needlessly and without cause. You were the most farsighted of us all, and had no need of Palantir to see far beyond the walls of our city-- something I could never do. Take heed of what you see, and be cautious.   
A man who is cautious and lives to fight on is not a coward. But a man who is heedless and dies in a hurry is a useless fool. You are neither coward or fool-- stay that way.   
Would that I could ease for you the pain that I have caused. But I do not know how.   
I am sorry.   
The circle is breaking. I have broken the Fellowship of the Ring, because I failed to keep the hobbits Meriadoc and Peregrin safe, and they surely were my charges, their defenselessness charged to my strength. And surely I have broken the circle in Minas Tirith-- for through my carelessness in death you are a Steward's Heir ill prepared for what you must do. I fear for our father, Faramir, for there is much in this world against him, and he is against much in this world. My strength has failed, and I now realize how much of things going right did depend upon my strength.   
There are footsteps I hear, the hastening of Dunedan feet. It is Aragorn, Faramir, and I swear I will not fail you in sending you what aid he may be. I may not have breath for even a prayer-- but I have breath for that.   
Forgive me.   
The circle is breaking.   
Never think I deserted you. Never think death shall be the end of my protection. I will not leave you, brother, to whatever ill fate it is I saw in Lothlorien. I may not be there in flesh, but I swear to you, I am always there, in spirit.   
The circle is breaking.   
But not the circle that ties us together-- not our blood, nor our brotherhood, nor our bonds.   
The circle is breaking.   
But I will see that you will not break with it. 


End file.
